Being with Georgette #4
And on other days, Georgette sits in the chair opposite the west window and watches the sun set.
I sit at my desk and watch Georgette.
Her face remains impassive, but her eyes betray her moods: now serene, now pensive, now contemplative, now vacuous.
I draw a breath to speak, but Georgette cuts me off.
“Don’t complicate things,” she says.
I let the remark pass in silence, and I return to my writing.
***
Sunset turns to dusk turns to twilight, and the room is too dim for writing.
I won’t turn on my lamp until she leaves the room.
The yellow, pink, orange, and red shades of sunset melt behind the western hills.
Georgette is transfixed.
I’ve also learned to let her choose when to close the curtains.
***
Darkness has fallen. My chair creaks.
The glow of a street light casts a pall across the furniture, the picture frames, and the tapestries–all rigid with breathless patience. Georgette wears the bluish cheeks and forehead of a newborn.
***
She rises.
Georgette rises and crosses the room.
She crosses the room and closes the curtains.
Georgette closes the curtains and approaches my desk.
She approaches my desk and turns on my lamp.
Georgette turns on my lamp and disappears into the darkness of the hallway, but I happen to know she will rise again at dawn.
<< Story #3 | Index of Stories| Story #5 >>
Originally published March 26, 2020
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I never saw that painting of Magritte: it’s kind of anti-intuitive. You look at it, and you feel that there is something wrong with this painting but it takes a second look before you realize what exactly bothers you.
Or a third, and then you’re still not sure.
Lovely writing!
Thank you!
Awesome! Thanks for writing! And sharing.
I love the… should I call it anaphoric… style in this poem. It’s appealing on the lips and ears. 💖
Thought-provoking
This makes me feel like how I felt reading ‘Of Fathers and Sons’ underneath the table in a day with hailstones when I was 12.
Thank you
Beautiful writing. Intriguing, serene and masterful!
Thank you! 😀
I like this: ‘I draw a breath to speak, but Georgette cuts me off. “Don’t complicate things,” she says.’
And also: “I’ve also learned to let her choose when to close the curtains.”
Nice! Intriguing Georgette!
😀
“….I won’t turn on my lamp until she leaves the room..”
This is one of my favorite reading story dear Rick, Especially, with the painting you did great touches into the thoughts.. Invisible and visible.. I can say I almost fall in love with this story. “Georgette” your great muse.. Also so romantic too. A moment when all the nonsense melts away.I would like to write it more beautifully, with an expression worthy of this language and this expression. Thank you, Love, nia
It is my favorite too. 😀
Beautiful.
I concur, absolutely gorgeous..
very nice
is breathtaking in its stillness. You’ve created a rhythm that feels like breathing—slow, intentional, full of quiet reverence. Every action is weighted with emotional subtext, and the restraint makes it all the more powerful. Georgette feels like a presence suspended between light and shadow, and your narrator’s quiet devotion is palpable. The ending lands with grace and inevitability. It’s exquisite.
I left a reply on #3 but it wasn’t accepted. I love these stories. I want to savor them because you say everything you need to, yet leave me with so many avenues to travel down in search of more of this love story. It’s haunting, there is a story behind the stories and it leaves me fearful of what lays ahead. It reminds me of tragic classics only because of the tone. You have found a tone in your writing and I’m envious. Thank you for liking my posts because it led me to Georgette and her lover’s world.
I came to your writing in a moment of curiosity. I am glad for the journey. This is special. I tried to reply on another, but it was rejected. These sentiments may be a duplicate.